Outlaws of Kvatch
by hooded mage
Summary: Once all survivors have been rescued from Kvatch, things go a bit wrong. How will they escape the Legion, the Empire, the Oblivion Crisis?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Please review my story as I want to know what I need to improve on and it'll make me very happy. There haven't been many stories about what people did after Kvatch and what could've happened to them, so I've written this. Enjoy!**

''Look out!'' Shouted Savlian Matius as part of the Fighter's Guild wall collapsed, missing Sigrid by inches. ''Are you okay?'' He asked the Nord who nodded, weakly. ''This search is called off. We have found nothing bar a dog. It's too dangerous to wade through collapsed houses in search of survivors who might not be in them. This city is dead, and so will we if we don't escape it soon.'' The small party trudged back through the burned out houses and collapsed chapel. Its Western Plaza just a scorch mark on the ground. Kvatch was a smokey ruin with nothing left.

It was nine o'clock when Arbore finished his shift at the Infirmary. ''Now, Lenka, your leg will be fine but next time get someone strong to put up your tent, like Batul gra - Sharob, she may be a woman but she's also an Orc.'' He said while making sure the bandage was tight around Lenka's ankle. Lenka Valus was a middle aged imperial with a kind face and greying hair. She stood up and took her crutch.

''Thank you dear, you're so kind, at seventeen you shouldn't be wasting your time looking after old timers like me. You should be out seeing the world!''

''But Kvatch is my home, I'll never leave while it still needs my help.''

''Tamriel needs more people like you.'' She said with a wrinkled smile.

''I'm telling you, I'm far from perfect...'' He trailed off as he thought back to that awful night.

_People were running, screaming. Mothers and children were being cut down in the streets, and all he could do was run. He ran past the Daedra. He ran past burning buildings. He ran past Clarabelle. His love, his beauty, his Clarabelle. No one else was hurt in the collapse. It was only her. He might of had time to save her, but he didn't; he ran._

It was the muffled thud of the canvas door flopping shut after Lenka had left that brought him out of his daydream, or daynightmare as the case may be. Arbore was about to slump down onto his bedroll when he remembered what night it was and with a groan he got up and headed to the monthly survivor meeting.

''Come on Oves.'' He said while walking out the door. Oves was a sheep. Arbore had chosen to keep him after an incident involving a shepherd where Arbore dropped a fortify intelligence potion. After that Oves had never left his side and could understand perfect Cyrodiilic. Fortunately for Arbore he couldn't answer back or he would have gone to the abattoir long ago.

The Refugee Camp had barely changed over the past few days. There were about two dozen tents made of rough and unadorned canvas. A communal fire burned in the eastern side of the camp. A smaller but more intense fire burned outside Batul gra - Sharob's tent. Her tent was just down the path from the Infirmary. Batul was the local smith and worked non stop to repair weapons and armour, as well as make pans, kettles and other essentials. Directly opposite the Infirmary was the Barracks. This was where Captain Matius and the rest of the Kvatch Guard lived. Just past Batul's tent was Sigrid's. Sigrid was second in command of Kvatch. She was kind but stern, and she was actually quite frightening. Opposite her was Irlav Dralgoner. He was a rather boring chapel primate, and he always insisted things were done efficiently. After that, was the rest of the camp. It was simply a sprawl of tents with the occasional tree amongst them. The Kitchen was in the centre of them. The Kitchen was run by Lenka and Boldon. Boldon was a middle aged Redguard with stiff joints and greying hair.

It was Arbore's job to record every injury, sickness and death amongst the refugees and helpers of Kvatch. He sat down next to Oleta, who was in charge of making sure they had enough supplies, and Sigrid, who as in charge of the search for survivors in Kvatch. There were two other people there: Savlian Matius, in charge of defending the refugees, and Ilav Dralgoner, making sure all helpers, refugees, and newcomers rescued from the city were properly sheltered and cared for.

Sigrid stood up. ''Today's search for survivors was a disaster. I almost got killed by a wall collapsing when I was searching the Fighters Guild. All we found today was a dog, a dog! He is now being trained by Tiera to defend the encampment. We need a new way of finding people amongst the ruins without risking our lives going into buildings that might not even have anybody in them, any suggestions?''

''We could just try shouting.'' Said Ilav.

''We've already tried that, but, after walking past a family in a basement three feet away, we scrapped it.'' Replied Sigrid.

''Have you tried demolishing buildings?'' Asked Arbore.

''What? And crush everyone inside? I don't think so.''

''You could use Detect Life.'' Everyone turned to look at the intruder. It was the Hero Of Kvatch herself. ''I have some potions with me so why not?''

''We would have done it sooner but we couldn't find the ingredients, my lady.'' Said a stunned Sigrid.

''Well lets get going then!''

It was even darker and gloomier than before in the ruins of Kvatch. The main plaza was quiet as the grave and the chapel walls were pale as ghosts. The fires that had destroyed Kvatch had burned themselves out, leaving only the charred remains of houses and people.

''Right people, to your positions!'' Shouted the Hero Of Kvatch in her strong High Elven accent.

It was Arbore's job to search the Arena District so he walked through the ruined chapel to join Tiera and her new dog, Pies.

''Orders are to wait until eleven exactly.'' Said Tiera while pushing Pies away.

''when will we know it's eleven?''

''Captain just said we'd know.'' At that moment a fireball burst into the sky.

''Must be the signal.'' Laughed Arbore. He drank the potion and several purple clouds filled his vision. Three of them were just Tiera, Pies and Oves. But in a house to his right there were three shapes that appeared to be human. A little way down the street was a basement with two huge people inside it. The last group was half a dozen survivors underneath the Arena itself.

''Tiera, there's a group underneath the Arena, go and see if you can get them out. I'll go to these houses.'' Tiera nodded and started to look for a trap door.

Arbore went to the house with three people and unlocked the door with a simple open spell. Inside were three dunmer. All three of them looked very thin and incredibly weak. The first one, and the only woman, stood up painfully. ''Is it over?'' Arbore nodded silently and the three dunmer ran outside despite their fatigue.

''We are so happy to be free, I feel so tired yet so alive!'' Said one of the males in a Morrowind accent. Arbore took a good look at them. They all had on exquisite robes of dunmer make and all seemed to be in their early thirties.

''If you're feeling so alive, why don't you help Tiera over there get the people out that are trapped beneath the Arena.'' He pointed over to the redguard who waved back. The three dunmer nodded eagerly and skipped over to join her.

The house with the two giant people, probably nords inside, stunk of death and decay. Arbore put a cloth to his mouth and gingerly opened the door the basement. Instantly two huge dremora jumped out making him fall to the ground. One of them had a mace and the other a claymore. Arbore scrambled to his feet just as the sword was about to hit him. He glanced to his left and saw Oves taking on the one with a mace. He thought back to what he learnt about deadra. He was desperately wracking his brain for something, anything while he slowly back away from the approaching demon. It hit him just as his back hit a wall. _Deadra are weak to shock!_ He charged a ball of electricity behind his back and waited for the dremora to charge. Just as expected the demon roared and stomped his way towards the breton. It raised it's claymore and was hit. Arbore reached out and grabbed it's arm. The dremora convulsed before collapsing and lying still. He looked over just in time to see Oves slitting his enemy's neck with his horn.

It was a much happier and larger party that walked down to the encampment. Pies had found the trap door to the Arena and Tiera let the two orcs, a wood elf and three imperials out. Sigrid had found a family of khajiit and about a dozen cats in the main plaza and Savlian had found a number of servants in the castle and two argonians clutching a basket of eggs hidden in the moat.

They were laughing and joking when they reached the camp but abruptly stopped when they saw what greeted them. A troop of Imperial Legion led by Audens Avidius was destroying the camp. With a click of his fingers Audens ordered his men to stop.

''Ah, you finally arrived. I was starting to think you were hiding from me. Kvatch owes taxes and I am here to take them, as well as anything else I might fancy, like you.'' Audens said while pointing to the female dunmer. The party formed a circle around her and all the other refugees flocked behind the warriors.

''Have it your way. Men, leave no survivors.'' The twenty or so Legion advanced on the refugees and started to attack. The Hero Of Kvatch launched herself at Audens for a bloody duel. Arbore and Oves found themselves taking on a well built imperial with a snarl on his face. It didn't take long before Oves butted him in the stomach and Arbore finished him off with a frost spell. Most of the guards were dead but Audens and the Hero were still fighting. She was about to land the killing blow when an arrow came out of nowhere and embeded itself in her exposed neck. She fell like a sack to the floor.

''Ha! She can defeat Mehrunes Dagon himself yet can't take down a foot soldier.'' Arbore had never seen a more mutilated corpse than the ones of Audens Avidius and the archer.

Arbore went back to the Infirmary and washed his face in a waterbut. His breton skin was slightly more tanned than was normal, he put it down to spending so much time in the Gold Coast. His shoulder length black hair was wavy and messy but what shocked him the most was his brown eyes. Instead of being alive and filled with light, they were dull and sad. Arbore knew this would be a revolution for Kvatch.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you ReactionMetre, I will keep your advice in mind. Please review this as loads of you are reading it so I want to know what you think. Do you like it? What's good? What can be improved? (I know there's loads but don't be too nit picky).**

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Arbore was woken up from a dreamless sleep by Oleta shaking him by the shoulders and screaming.

''I need your help! The Infirmary's full and and the argonian eggs are hatching. You need to get yourself cleaned up and get to work at once.'' Arbore groaned and walked to the water but outside the tent. He liked Oleta. She may be strict and have a short temper, but the old redguard had a good heart and a kind face. She was getting on in her years though and he would miss her, wrinkles and scowl included.

He washed his face and rinsed out his mouth before looking up and taking a view of the camp. After last nights attack by the corrupt watchmen, whose bodies were decaying at the bottom of a hill, most of the tents were flattened or burned. The refugees had plenty of warning because of the torches the Legion carried so no one had died, apart from... It made Arbore shiver to remember his hero falling to a mundane but well shot arrow. Only two tents stood standing: the Infirmary and the Barracks. That was probably because they were the closest to the mountain so the last tents the Legion would've come across. Arbore still didn't understand how anybody could get that corrupt. The refugees were busy putting up the tents that hadn't received much damage but those were few and far between. Smoldering heaps were the remains of some tents and smashed sticks and shredded canvas were others. Arbore didn't know how most people would cope with the cold of the night but he saw Foroch, the owner of the Gottshaw Inn, riding down the rode with a wagon in tow. The kindly bosmer helped Kvatch out after the daedra attack so it made sense to help them now.

He was just about to go and ask Foroch how he knew about the attack when a loud scream came from within the Infirmary. He ran inside and saw Tiera with a gash in her leg and Oleta with a pair of calipers clutching an arrow head.

''You really should've come to see me last night! This could've got infected, and you know what problems that would cause. For the sake of Akatosh, stay still!'' She said while trying to tie a strip of linen around Tiera's leg. ''What have I told you, Arbore, go see to the argonians.'' Said Oleta without looking up. Arbore nodded and opened a flap to see a basket of eggs writhing and squirming. Two argonians sat and watched the eggs with fear. One was a woman with green scales but with patches of azur on her arms and face. The other was a man with high frills and scales like fire. His face was a myriad of red, orange and yellow with the odd dash of turquoise. Arbore could tell these were going to be interesting hatchlings.

''I'm Arbore, your... midwife. You are?''

''I am Droge-Telwe and this is my wife, Ferana.'' Arbore made a confused face at Ferana.

''I was born a slave in Morrowind and this is the name they gave me.'' She explained.

''Pleasure to meet both of you. Now, to see to those eggs.'' Arbore took a pan and put a thick cloth inside it. He then transferred the eggs one by one into the pan. He placed it over a smouldering fire to encourage them to hatch. After ten minutes he came back with a trough full of water to put the hatchlings in.

After half an hour the first egg cracked. The parents jumped up and ran to the pan. Arbore gently coaxed the hatchling out by carefully lifting bits of shell. It took five minutes for the head to emerge and by that time half a dozen eggs were beginning to open. The first one was a girl with a tiny frill and bright orange scales. A minute later a boy with spikes and blue and pink scales emerged.

''He's gonna get bullied.'' Remarked Arbore, to which the parents only glared at him.

''Right now, keep them in the trough for the next hour so they get used to breathing underwater. You need to feed them a small amount of blood after that, so take this.'' Arbore handed Ferana a small knife.

''What about that egg?'' Asked Droge-Telwe. He pointed to the only egg left in the pan that wasn't moving at all.

''I'm afraid it didn't make it. It happens with most hatchings so consider yourselves lucky it was only one.''

''What should we do with it?''

''Some parents like to feed it to the ones that did survive. Some will bury it, and others will put it in the nearest body of water.''

''We'll bury it... with the Hero of Kvatch.'' Said Ferana, weakly.

The funeral was a silent affair, even the hatchlings were quiet. The sky was cloudless and bright, it was as if the heavens were mocking her. The burial sight was a few feet west of the encampment, under a silver birch. Everybody from the camp was gathered around the hole, the poor people didn't even have enough resources for a coffin. Arbore looked to up from his silent prayers to observe the people around him, his friends. Including the hatchlings there were forty seven people present. Arbore knew this because it was his job to record the demographics of Kvatch. Ilav Dralgoner stood up and, wiping a tear from his eye, said the traditional funeral prayers.

''This is the body of a true hero, a champion for the weak. She gave her life so we could live ours. She...'' Arbore didn't hear any more of the rehearsed speech. He was thinking about how Kvatch would survive. It wouldn't be long before the entire Legion was after them... and then what?

''... May perpetual light shine upon her, and may she rest in peace.'' Ilav finished with a drone and sat back down. Ferana stood up and placed the egg into the grave, followed by many others placing items on top of the egg. Arbore took out a redwort flower from his pocket and went up to place it in. His was the last so when he placed the flower it would all be over. He couldn't look so he just threw it in and walked away.

It was noon when the messenger came with the news. It was Oleta that spotted him first as he rode up on his bay horse. The nervous youth was about the same age as Arbore and his Legion armour was way too big for him. The refugees stood at the entrance to the camp and waited for him to reach them. The horse looked exhausted and the boy was close to collapse, Regardless of his need to rest the messenger took out a scroll and began to read.

''By order of High Chancellor Ocato and the Elder Council, I hereby sentence all citizens of Kvatch to be executed on the morning of the fifth of Second Seed for the crimes of slaughter and treason. I give you two choices: firstly, you may come with me to the Imperial City and await your execution. Secondly, you may resist arrest and live as outlaws, being hunted by every citizen of the Empire. Make your choice.'' He rolled up the scroll and stared, worriedly at the refugees.

''There is only one choice to make, sir. Whether to kill you or let you go.'' Piped up Sigrid. The other refugees cheered and nodded in agreement. The messenger looked worried and started to panic.

''Please, don't hurt me! I'll - I'll take extra long to reach the Imperial City.''

''If we kill you, it'll take a week before they notice something's amiss.'' Said Ilav.

''I'll take two!''

''We shall let you live, but if you go against your word every person here will hunt you down.''

''I won't go back on it, I promise.''

''Why don't you start towards Anvil, then. It's lovely this time of year and in the opposite direction.'' Advised Sigrid.

''Yes ma'am!'' Exclaimed the boy and rode off towards the port town.

''Well, what are you waiting for? We leave in an hour.'' Shouted Savlian to the crowd which subsequently dispersed.

Arbore went to his corner of the Infirmary and started to sort his belongings out. It was hard for him to decide what to pack as he couldn't take everything but he couldn't leave anything. In the end he took his money bag, his more useful scrolls including a couple of strong fire ones, his ingredients satchel, his journeyman mortar and pestle, some more clothes and a few blankets for him and Oves. He couldn't leave all his potions and poisons behind so he poured about a quarter of the contents of each bottle into smaller glass phials that were enchanted so they wouldn't break and put them into a small bag. He left the Infirmary and helped Oleta and the three dunmer to take it down. They could only take the main lobby with them as there was no way to transport the rest of it.

''Hey, Oleta, where will you stay?'' Asked Arbore.

''With Tavia, she's my daughter inlaw.''

''Oh, well, I'll find somewhere.'' Said Arbore, sadly. The female dunmer overheard this and came over to him.

''You can stay with us, if you like. We have plenty of room and you'd be no trouble.'' She said with a kindly smile.

''Well, if you're sure. I'm Arbore.'' He said while holding out his hand.

''Malsa, pleasure to meet you.'' Malsa took his hand and shook it harder than expected. She called over her two companions and they introduced themselves.

''I'm Golven.'' Said the youngest one with an angled faced and slicked back hair.

''And I'm Dovor.'' Said the oldest with a slight stubble and a crooked nose. His hair was short and spiked up with a toxic ointment. Arbore re-examined them. It must of been the light, or lack thereof and the grime on their faces that had made them look so old when he first saw them, in Kvatch. Malsa and Golven looked about twenty and Dovor twenty four.

''I'd love to get to know you three but we best get going, perhaps later?''

''Yeah, we can talk over a bottle of flin.'' Said Malsa, excitedly.

''Flin?''

''Oh, it's the most wonderful beverage from Vvardenfell. You've got to try it.'' Arbore was about to politely decline when Savlian shouted to gather at the centre of the camp and bring everything they're not taking. Everyone complied and soon their was a large pile of items including most of Arbore's scrolls. With a nod from Savlian Sigrid cast a fireball at the pile.

''If we can't use these then those Imperial pigs sure won't,'' explained Savlian, ''Right people, north east, to the Great Forest. Everybody turned and marched. The dunmer, the argonian and khajiit families, the warriors from the Arena, the castle servants, the city guards, the original survivors, even Foroch and his little wagon. He had decided to join them because the Legion was sure to lock him away for helping them so he packed up his barrels of alcohol and his stocks of food and joined the newest group of outlaws in Tamriel.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N It must be really lonely for to be the only person on the review page, so please give this poor soul some company and review too. Also, if you have any ideas about what people, quests, places etc that you want to see in this story then please tell me and I'll try to add it.**

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''Remind me again why we're going to the Great Forest.'' Sigrid was not in a good mood after she fell into a thistle bush. She now made it her mission to complain about everything.

''We're going there because we need to hide and where better to do that then in a forest.'' Explained Savlian.

''The forest is also home to dangerous monsters that can tear us limb from limb.''

''How many times have we had this argument?''

''Well, we need to have it again!''

''Fine, fine.'' In truth, Savlian Matius, the brave captain of the guard, the man who went into the ruins of Kvatch and came out again was terrified of his Nordic second in command. He thought it was best to just do as she said. ''Yes, there are dangerous creatures but I doubt they'd attack a party as large as ours.''

''I still don't think it's a good idea.''

''It's the best we have so it's the one we're taking.''

''How long will it take to get to the border of the forest?'' Arbore thought it was time to stop Sigrid and Savlian from killing each other.

''About another week, but we should be at at Shardrock within three days.''

''What's Shardrock?''

''Oh, it's a small farm that holds a farmers market every month. It should be going on when we get there so we can get some more supplies.''

''We can't! The Legion is hunting us down so every citizen will know us as outlaws.''

''I don't plan for all of us to go to the market. We'll camp south of it and only a few of us will go in.''

''Makes sense, although they won't have enough supplies and even if they did we wouldn't have the coin.''

''Well, we're labelled outlaws so why not act like outlaws.''

''You can't seriously suggest-''

''Troll!'' The shout rang throughout the group and everyone stopped, but only for a second. After the brief pause everybody bar the Hatchlings had a weapon ready. Be it bow, sword or magic they were armed. The troll was in a clump of bushes slightly east of their position. Savlian put up his hand to signal for everyone but the swordsman to retreat. He and six others stepped forward so as to surprise the monster. Savlian was first to reach the bushes and was about to plunge his sword into the foliage when the troll roared and jumped out at him. He was knocked to the floor and the troll reared to strike down and smash his head like a melon. He looked up and saw that it was over. He bowed his head and prayed to Arkay for safe passage to Aethurius. A terrible screech deafened him and his head jolted upwards. The troll was writhing on the floor with flames consuming it's body. It wasn't long before the beast was dead and Savlian's terror sweat subsided. He looked to the caster and saw Oleta casually inspecting her nails. She smiled at Savlian who smiled back.

''Right, next time there's a troll, let the mages deal with it.'' He said while walking on as if nothing happened. The group hesitated for a second but trudged after him through the dense red and green foliage.

Shardrock was not as Savlian remembered it. Ten years ago it was a single farm house with a single farmer and a single flock of sheep. Now it was a quaint market village with a dozen houses and a small chapel. In a field to the north was the market. Farmers from all over Colovia would come and sell their produce. From watermelons to woolen jumpers, it was all there.

Only Savlian, Sigrid, Ilav, Arbore and Tiera went into the village. Of course, Pies and Oves accompanied them. Savlian and Sigrid were there to gather food and information about their status in the Empire. Ilav was there to get clothes, tents, tools and anything else they may need. Arbore was to get potions, ingredients for potions and recipes for potions and Tiera was to get any arms and armour that may be available. They split up when they reached the field so Arbore and Oves was left to seek a witches stool. He was sure there would be one somewhere, it was only a matter of looking.

After half an hour of getting shoved about by farmers and shepherds Arbore found what he was looking for. The dark green tent had a large supply of scented candles and incense sticks burning on the outside and even more inside. The witch was a very young Breton with sandy hair tied into a bun. _This is great, she's a novice so I can probably con her out of a few things. _The only furniture was a low wooden table on the centre of the tent. The walls and ceiling were draped with veils and the floor was covered with bright cushions.

''My name is Primuntia Sekole, what can I do for you?''

''Do you have any Cure Disease Potions, or ingredients that I can use to make them?''

''I have two bottles of the potion but no ingredients. My herb garden was trampled by a rogue herd of cattle so the harvest was particularly poor this year.''

''The bottles will do just fine. How much are they?''

''Four hundred septims.'' Arbore was afraid this was going to happen. He simply did not have enough coin.

''Is there any chance of you lowering the price?''

''I can go down to one - eighty but that's it.'' She saw that he wouldn't be able to afford it so not wanting to loose a potential customer she came up with an idea. ''How about you pay for it some other way?'' She blanched at his shocked face and realised how she must have sounded. ''I meant to work for it by making potions, or something!'' Arbore calmed down and looked around the shop.

''What do you want me to do?''

''I need you to make me a dozen Healing Potions. The equipment and ingredients are behind me, on the floor.'' Arbore got up and found an expert set of alchemy equipment and a basket full of mugwort seeds and lady's mantle leaves. He took a handful of seeds and leaves and crushed them using the mortar and pestle. Next he put them in to a retort and used a controlled flame spell to heat it. When the mixture had given off enough steam he poured it into an alembic for it to be distilled. After a couple of minutes he took the distilled liquid and poured it into a small blue bottle. He felt there was no need to use a calcinator as there were no side effects to reduce. He repeated the process eleven more times before he ran out of ingredients.

''Are these good enough for you?'' She came over and put her finger in one of the bottles and tasted the drop of liquid on the end of her digit.

''These are good potions, not fantastic, but good.''

''So, just a normal potion of healing, not strong or weak?''

''Just normal potions.'

''That means you can sell them for about one thousand four hundred septims, altogether.''

''Yeah, so?''

''I think I deserve more than two potions.''

''The agreement was two potions.''

''In that case, because I made the potions, I can legally destroy them.''

''You used my equipment and and ingredients so no you can't.''

''Fine, then I'll illegally destroy them. All I want are those two books.'' He pointed to a large leather bound and a small black book in the corner. ''A potions recipe and a spell book, I think. I saw them while making these.'' He held up the bottles.

''Fine take the books as well but nothing else.''

''Pleasure doing business with you.'' He took the two Cure Disease Potions and the books. He lifted the flap of the tent and walked out but not before blowing Primuntia a kiss.

The clock in the chapel tower chimed two; Arbore had an hour before he had to get back to camp. He looked around and found a bakers stool selling cakes and pastries that made his mouth water.

Three sweet rolls and an ale later Arbore left the little town with it's thatched roofs and wooden walls to head back to the cluster of tents that he called home. He came down a small woodland path and was greeted by a camp fire with a boar being turned on a spit by Golven.

''You're the last one back. Savlian and Sigrid only returned five minutes ago though so don't worry. Hey, want some boar?'' Arbore looked at the fat pig and felt slightly ill as the grease and fat dripped off of it.

''Um... no thanks, I ate at the market.'' Most peasants would jump at the opportunity to gauge themselves on boar but Arbore was a bit prudish about tearing into a hunk of flesh with gravy and juice covering his face so he looked like a barbarian. The sweet rolls would last him until evening and then he'd hunt down a fruit tree.

He checked in with Oleta at the Infirmary to drop off the potions; he was going to keep the books for himself.

It was dark when he emerged from the Infirmary. Boldon, a Redguard, had managed to get himself trampled by a horse so it took most of the afternoon to mend his disintegrated arm. He decided to go to the tent he shared with Golven, Malsa and Dovor. He reached the flap but before he could grab it he stumbled and had to grasp the support pole for support, ironically. He looked down and saw a plate with a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese and an apple. On it was a note that read:

_I saw your look of disgust you gave the boar earlier so I gathered you wouldn't want some now. I managed to get this out of the supply tent, enjoy!_

_Signed: Golven._

Arbore smiled and picked up the metal plate. He went inside and sat on his bedroll to read the spell book. He opened it on the first page and began to read.

He woke up with a start and saw the three Dunmer looking at him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

''You were casting spells in your sleep.'' Said Golven.

''What?''

''Yeah, I got hit by one of them, it was only an open spell so it didn't harm me.'' He said this to the worried expression on Arbore's face.

''You managed to throw a few destruction spells around, too. We managed to heal ourselves and repair the damage though.'' Said Malsa.

''How did you do that?''

''We're mages as well, you know.''

''No, I didn't.''

''Dovor and I are Telvanni and Golven's a Necromancer.''

''Oh, so that's why you left Morrowind.''

''We never said anything about being from Morrowind.''

''It was the accents. So, why did all three of you leave? I mean, Necrophilia is illegal in Morrowind but Telvanni certainly isn't.''

''Malsa and Dovor are married and I'm Malsa's twin.'' Explained Golven.

''I see... Anyway, what time is it?''

''Six.''

''But I fell asleep at eight.''

''Yes, and it's six in the morning and we're about to move out.''

After their tent and the Infirmary was packed up and strapped onto their backs they carried on through the West Weald. The sun was beating down upon them and Arbore was beginning to tire out, fast. Not wanting to show his weakness he checked no one was watching and tipped back a restore fatigue potion.

Three hours later they stumbled upon hell. Two Oblivion Gates had opened to the north and south of a small group of fighters. Arbore looked at them and saw it was a shrine to Meridia, the Daedric Prince of life. The group was made up of three worshipers, half a dozen Aurorans and four Spriggans. A woman jumped out of the group and landed behind a Spider Daedra. The daedra hissed and tried to turn but her legs got tangle and her head was cut in half by the womans sword. The weapon appeared to be made out of a grey stone with silver veins running through it. Instead of being cumbersome and dull it looked light and sharp in the womans hand. Arbore looked at the woman and back at the shrine, then the woman and the shrine again._By the Nine Divines! It's Meridia herself._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Please review, as it would make me very happy. I'm sorry for the very long delay, but I have been VERY busy. If you want to see any chatacters, quests or places, tell me, and I will try to add them in later on in the story. **

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''To arms, men!'' Shouted Savlian, before anyone had quite recovered from the shock. The remains of the Kvatch Guard drew their swords, the Arena fighters drew maces and bows, and the mages charged up some powerful destruction spells.

''Wait for my signal,'' said Savlian. ''Archers fire!'' The Bosmer from the Arena and the Khajiit couple launched three arrows that did almost no damage to the Daedra. Savlian saw this and made a note to get the civilians trained in marksman.

''Mages!'' He shouted once more and Sigrid, Arbore, Oleta, Malsa, Goven and Dovor released their spells. The mages did a lot more damage than the archers. All bar one of the spells hit a target and two Daedroths and a Spider Daedra were killed.

''Alright, men, charge!'' The warriors and mages threw themselves into the battle. The archers tried to carry on using their bows but soon gave up and drew their daggers. Both Tiera and Arbore had ordered Pies and Oves to stay out of the fighting, but Arbore got a glimpse of Oves locking horns with a Clannfear's frill. A great Xivilai loomed up in front of him. It's red eyes glowing, and it's purple skin rippling with muscle. It lifted the warhammer it was holding into the air, but, before it could bring it down upon the fear paralyzed boy, a great bolt of energy hit it on the side sending it flying into a group of scamps. Arbore looked over to see Goven with a smug smile on his face.

Soon, most of the Daedra were dead, and the few that were left fled into an Oblivion Gate. Meridia sheathed her sword and stood in front of the refugees. Her golden hair billowed in the wind, and her pale blue, silken dress swept along the floor behind her, leaving a trail of flowers and shoots.

''I am Meridia, the Daedric Prince of Life. I am also eternally in your debt. When the gates first opened, my worshippers summoned me to help them. I came with only a few warriors, not knowing the threat was so great. When the Daedra came out, I had to close the portal to my realm for fear of them entering. I can now get reinforcements, but we need to close those gates! I cannot do it by myself, so I need your help.'' She looked at them for signs of agreement.

''Okay, we'll help. We'll take the north gate and you can take the south, mistress,'' said Savlian, humbly.

''That sounds like a plan, but I want one of your men to come with me, and one of mine will go with you. I need to know that you won't betray me and simply let the Daedra through.''

''Likewise, mistress, likewise. Okay then, who wants to go?'' The outlaws looked at each other but no one stepped forward.

''I'll go!'' Said Arbore, as he and Oves pushed through the crowd.

''But we need you to take care of the injured!'' Objected Savlian.

''I'm sure Oleta can handle them.'' Savlin opened his mouth to retort but closed it again and simply nodded.

''So be it, mortal, we depart in ten minutes. You, Graek, shall go with the mortals.'' Meridia pointed at one of her Aurorans, who bowed in acknowledgement.

Ten minutes wait brought reinforcements from the Coloured Rooms, Meridia's realm. Arbore and Oves lay down in the grass, waiting for Meridia to finish explaining why they had to come along. Neither the mortals, nor the Daedra, trusted each other, which made the arrangement all the more difficult. Aurorans and Spriggans glanced at Arbore every few moments. Arbore noticed Golven striding towards him from the refugees.

''I thought you could use a little company,'' he said, while sitting down.

''Thanks. Say, do you think life will ever return to normal?''

''Define normal. If you mean before the Daedra attack, then no. The Legion will not stop hunting us until we're dead, or until a miracle happens. I know which one is more likely.''

''Maybe we have some allies somewhere. People who hate the Empire for killing the Hero of Kvatch.''

''It seems likely, though I doubt they'd be anyone with any power, but, if we are to find any, they'd be in the Imperial City.''

''We'll have to speak to Savlian about this.''

''We shall, after these gates are dealt with.'' There was a silence for a while until Goven spoke,

''Looks like we're moving out. Good luck.''

''Likewise.'' Golven got up and returned to the Kvatchians* who were picking up there weapons. Meridia approached Arbore and said,

''It's time, mortal. Perhaps I can teach you a few things.''

''Perhaps you can, mistress. I certainly hope so, at any rate.'' Meridia smiled and walked back to her followers, closely followed by Arbore and Oves.

The gate loomed in front of Arbore, Meridia and her forces. Quite a few more Aurorans, Spriggans and Animals had came from the Coloured Rooms, including a number of Bears, Wolves and Lions.

''Well, mortal, this could be seen as me declaring war on Mehrunes Dagon, so this could well be the last time I will be able to give you any kind of aid. The Coloured Rooms will probably be attacked. It won't be anything I can't handle, as most of his forces will be concentrated here, but I still won't be able to risk opening any portals.''

''Mistress, why would you send aid in the first place?''

''I will be in your debt after this, so I need a way to repay you.''

''I'm sure my leader, Savlian Matius, will think of something.''

''Talking of your leader, he appears to be entering his gate. I think we should do the same.''

Fire. That was the one word that went through Arbore's mind when he first stepped into Oblivion. If it was not red or orange, it was black. Three great black spires rose out of a scorched island in a sea of lava. Many black plants grew out of the ground, and Arbore decided to pick a few before jogging after Meridida.

Their first encounter was of a scamp, who was very confused on whom to attack first. Meridia's forces were about to slaughter the creature, but she put up her arm for them to stop and ordered them to make a ring around it.

''Mortal, this could be an opportunity for me to show you something. Step into the ring.'' Arbore obeyed and carefully approached the daedra. The scamp instantly turned to face him and bared it's teeth. ''Combat is all about grace. Even if your opponent can't do it, make sure you can. Now, kill that scamp with as much grace as possible.''

Arbore turned to look at the vile monster. It had scratches across its yellowed skin and ears that wouldn't look out of place on a Wood Elf. His legs were those of a goats and its face was from a nightmare.

Arbore held a frost spell in his hand and slowly walked around the daedra, who just snarled at him. With a quick spin and thrust, the scamps arm was stiff with ice.

''Very good. Now, it's not all about grace; there's no point killing something smoothly if it's not efficiently.''

He concentrated and replaced the frost spell with one of paralyze. He jumped behind the scamp and placed his hand on its back. Before you could blink, the paralysis spell was replaced with frost, and the scamp was several large chunks on the scorched floor.

''Excellent, mortal, you are a fine mage. We shouldn't hang around here too long. Dagon will be aware of our presence by now and should be sending reinforcements.'' Meridia started to sprint across the island, along with Arbore, Oves and her forces.

They managed to take down many enemies before they encountered Dagon's army. At the head was the largest Dremora Arbore had ever seen. Its horns curled out of his helmet, which only added to his height; ten feet tall, in total. Behind him was an array of Daedra and lesser Dremora, all ready to tear anything living limb from limb.

''My my, Dagon has put on a show. Well, what are you waiting for? Get stuck in!'' Meridia did seem to have a sense of humour when it came to violence, thought Arbore. He charged into the fray along with the rest, straight into a Spider Daedra. She hissed at him and summoned a smaller version of herself, who turned its attention on Oves. He quickly dodged a shock spell from the daedra and threw a weak paralysis spell back at her. It simply disappeared as soon as it made contact, and she mearly chuckled. She threw another shock spell at Arbore who was not quick enough to dodge this time, and he was sent flying across the battlefield. He landed next to a Spriggan who manged to kill the Frost Atronach she was fighting and helped him up. He charged back to the Spider Daedra who, believing him to be dealt with, was taken care of by a powerful frost spell. Arbore glanced over at Oves and was devastated. The Spiderling was gone, but Oves had a gash running across his body. He was lying on the floor bleating pathetically. His previuos paralysis spell had worn off, but he still couldn't move. Arbore ran over and placed his hand on the sheep's head. A sparkling white light surrounded both of them, and, when it dissapeared, Oves was no longer bleating in pain, but the wound was still spurting blood. Arbore tried it again but with the same results.

''There is only one thing that can save him now.'' Meridia said from over his houlder. The battle was over, and they had one. Many casualties were strewn acoss the ground, but Dagon had lost the most.

''Tell me what it is.'' Arbore commanded through gritted teeth.

''I could heal him myself, but that would take most of my power. Power that I need. The only other way is to exit the gate. It is said that when an Oblivion Gate closes it heals and repairs everything; weapons, armour... sheep. The only way to close an Oblivion Gate is to remove the sigil stone.''

''Well, what are we waiting for? We have to close it, now.''

The much diminished group raced into the the black tower. Several Clannfear and Xivilai were there to guard the lowest level, but they were no match for Meridia's forces and Arbore's blind rage. The tower spiralled above them into almost unseeable heights.

''We'll never get up there in time. There has to be another way,'' said Arbore.

''Look, this pillar of flame is what's holding up the stone. If we can destroy this, we can catch the stone as it falls,'' Meridia pointed out.

''How are we supposed to do that?''

''With frost, I should imagine.'' She cast a powerful frost spell at the pillar, which juddered but nothing more. ''We need more power.'' Both she and Arbore cast their most powerful frost spells at the pillar, but it only haulted for a second.

''There must be another way. Hunt around for anything that might help us,'' said Arbore. They wandered behind walls and through doors for about five minutes, until a Spriggan found a strange, misty fountain.

''There magic here,'' she said, in her raspy voice.

''One here too,'' said an Auroran, in a gruff voice.

''We could try channeling the magic to frost and aim it at the pillar,'' said Arbore.

''No, it still wouldn't be enough. We should pass it through everyone here, and draw out their magicka along the way. Yes, that should do it. You take the one to the right,'' said Meridia. Arbore rushed to do as she said. He drew the mist from the font and passed it through the Aurorans, Spriggans and animals present. It grew steadily larger until a thick fog stopped anyone from seeing anything.

''Okay, now draw it into you, and release it when I give the command,'' said Meridia. Arbore gathered the fog and compressed it into a ball in his hands. As the fog started to clear, he could see Meridia doing the same.

''Now!'' She shouted. Arbore turned the magicka into frost and put all his might into directing it at the pillar. Meridia's hit a second before his, and, togther, they brought the pillar to a hault. The Sigil Stone came tumbling down and was caught by Arbore, and the world turned to flames.

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*** I used Kvatchians, because I thought they must have a name, and I got sick of using 'outlaws' and 'refugees'**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Please review, as per usual. Also, please do tell me if you want to see anything in this story.**

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Scorched earth rushed towards Arbore's face, as the world materialized infront of him. Pain shot through his head as his face connected with the ground. After of a few seconds of massaging his nose, he stood up and looked around. Meridia was striding towards the Kvatchians, who had already closed their gate. The rest of her army were standing up around Arbore and walking after Meridia. Arbore started to search for Oves, pushing through Auroran's and Spriggan's alike. He finally found Oves munching on the fresh grass several feet from the gate. Arbore ran up to him and hugged him as hard as he possibly could. Oves bleated with dissaproval and wriggled out of his grasp. After a few minutes of them frolicking around eachother, they both ran after Meridia.

Savlian looked very tattered and worn when Arbore reached him. His sword was snapped in half, his armour had scorch marks all over it, and his helmet had a nasty dent. The other people didn't look much better. Half of Oleta's hair was burned off, and Batul-gra-Sharob had a nasty gash on her face. Almost everyone sported some kind of injury, but only a few had severe ones. Within a matter of minutes, the Infirmary had been set up, and Arbore had regrown Oleta's hair. Almost everyone came streaming in, and, being too busy to see them all individuallty, Oleta and Arbore sent wide range, high power healing spells at the crowd. Only Batul, Ferana and Merandil, the High Elf guard, still needed attention. The Infirmary was dark inside, despite the light outside, and needed several candles to make it bareably gloomy. To make conversation, Arbore followed the only rout of topic there was.

''That's quite a gash you have there, Batul. How did you get it?'' Asked Arbore, while cleaning the wound.

''Suprise attack from a Daedtroth. Nasty brutes, they are. I managed to cave it's head in with my hammer, but not before one of it's claws caught my face.''

''So, what actually happened in the gate?''

''I'll tell you my version. I was in Savlian's group. Oleta, here, was in Sigrid's and Ferana was in Irlav's-''

''Irlav had a group of his own?''

''Yeah, turns out the old man has quite a skill with a staff. It was quite simple really. We split into three groups, and took different paths to the tower. We each faced a horde of monsters and deamons, until we reached the door. Sigrid's was the first to arrive, followed by mine. and, lastly, Irlav's. His group had suffered the most casualties. No one was dead, thankfully. but many couldn't carry on due to injuries, especially that Dunmer lass-''

''Malsa?''

''Yes, that's the one. She was out cold and had a nasty gash on her head-''

''What happened to her? Why isn't she here?'' Abore started to panic.

''It's okay. Oleta manged to close the wound and made sure there was no more damage. It still took her an hour before she managed to come round. By that time we had closed the gate. Irlav told us it was a rock fall. She's lucky to be alive.''

''Oh, thank the Nine.''

''You still believe in the Nine after we met Meridia?''

''I don't know what to believe. I have followed the Nine all my life, but now I know the Daedra actually have the power to answer prayers. I-I think Meridia is a true god, and there is no proof of the Nine. I would rather my prayers be answered, I suppose. This has got me thinking, this has.''

''I, like most of my kin, worship Malacath, Patron God of the Orcs,'' said Batul.

''Have you had any of your prayers answered?''

''Yes, actually. I prayed for my forge to- OOOWW!''

''Sorry, I should've told you the stitching would hurt. The first one is always the worst.''

''Hmmm. Well, I hope you're right. Anyway, I prayed for my forge to get hotter than the silverbirch wood it was fuelled by would allow. Afterwards, I turned my back to sort out some calipers, and, when I looked again, the fire was glowing whit hot!''

''Are you sure it wasn't coincidence?'' Asked Oleta, who had just finished bandaging Ferana's arm.

''Of course not! How else could you explain a white hot forge on silverbirch wood?'' Said Batul.

''Oh, I don't know, Zenithar perhaps?''

''The God of workmen in your puny Imperial religion? He has no power over this world.''

''Each to their own, I suppose,'' said Arbore, not wishing to have an argument unfold infront of him.

''There you go dear, good as new,'' Oleta said to Ferana.

''Thank you, Matron,'' rasped the Argonian.

''I'll have none of the 'Matron' nonsense around here.''

''You are head of this healing centre, so you are Matron. It's simply how it works,'' said Ferana. Oleta thought for a moment, and then shrugged. Ferana bowed and left the tent.

''Batul, you will need to see me in three weeks to get those stitches off. Until then, avoid touching your eye,'' said Arbore.

''Thanks, but I think Lola needs help with Merandil.'' Arbore turned to see Merandil's bandages falling off to reveal wounds gushing blood. Lola was one of the servants rescued from the Castle. She was a fairly young Imperial with black hair, brown eyes, and a rosy complexion. Though her heart was right, she lacked the skill to do even the simplest task. No one had any idea why the deceased count, Ormellius Goldwine, kept her on. After this little fiasco, she'd be put on salve duty for a week, at the very least.

Oleta grabbed a new role of bandeges, and wrapped on end around Merandil's leg. After a struggle to tie the bandages tight enough, she finally managed to stop the bleeding, and find him a crutch.

''Sorry about that. We're training her, and she's getting better,'' said Oleta.

''That's alright. As long as I don't die of blood loss, I'm happy,'' said Merandil. With that, he walked out the tent, leaving Oleta, Arbore and Lola to clear things up. Arbore went to get water out of a water tank, to wash away some of the blood. He returned shortly after to find Lola busy scrubbing away with an already filled bucket next to her. Arbore mearly shrugged and placed the bucket down, and knelt down to help her. He got a brush from Lola's bucket, and started on a patch to his right.

''I'm hopless, aren't I?'' Asked Lola.

''No, you just need more practise,'' said Arbore.

''I'm not getting any better, though.''

''Nonsense, you've never repeated anything quite to the scale of the healing spell. That took quite some skill. I mean, Restoration and Destruction are too different schools of magic!''

''I'm just glad we had some spare canvas to repair the tent.''

''You do seem to have a nack for alchemy, though.''

''Being a cook and a gardener does help.''

''I suppose it must. Well, that looks like all of it. Night.''

''Night.''

It was dark, and chilly, when Arbore stepped out of the Infirmary. Several fires blazed around the camp. No doubt families wishing to cook a few small hunks of rat meat before rations ran too low. Arbore made a mental note to ask Irlav about how long the rations would last. That night was the survivors meeting. Never had the title been more apt.

The meeting tent was better lit than the infirmary. The furniture consisted of a few stumps of wood, and a few saucers holding candles. Sigrid was already there, but Irlav and Savlian were not.

''Hello. I hope there wasn't too much work to be done in the Infirmary,'' said Sigrid, not looking up from the sheets of papers she was studying.

''No, Lola's getting better, but tonight we learnt not to trust her with bandages,'' said Arbore. At the statement, Sigrid burst into her traditional Nordish boom of a laugh.

''I hope she learns how to actually help soon. Arbore, now that we've moved on from Kvatch, I'm no longer needed to look for survivors. What do you think of me becoming the treasurer?''

''I-I don't know. How good are you with money?'' Truth be told, Arbore knew exactly how good Sigrid was with money. She had her good moments, where things would pay off, but she did have quite a few tumbles as well, but they were bought with her own money. She was much more careful with others.

''I was the head of the Kvatch Mages Guild Hall for a while. Well, two weeks.''

''I didn't realise you were head at all.''

''You were out of town, and, before I could tell you, when you got back, the Daedra attacked.''

''Before, you were the supplier for the Guild Hall, or something like that?''

''Yes, I was. We only ever went short on stock twice. Both times was when the courier got killed or lost.''

''In that case, you have my support.''

''Thank you. You two are late.'' This last statement was directed at Savlian and Irlav, who had just walked into the tent.

''Sorry, I was getting some bread for the Khajiit family,'' said Irlav.

''And I was helpiing Tierra with a warhammer,'' said Savlian. Arbore and Sigrid looked at each other, and then back at Irlav and Savlian.

''You were gambling with Lenka again, weren't you?'' They said in unision. Lenka, despite getting on in her time, never turned down a game of dice, and the two men were only too willing to take advantage of that. Though, it was a rare time that they won more than they lost. Lenka was an expert, if ever there was one.

Savlian and Irlav looked at the floor in shame, and Sigrid and Arbore could barely control their laughter. After they managed to calm down, Sigrid stood up and started the meeting.

''Well, first things first. There is no longer any need of me in this council, as we can no longer look for survivors in Kvatch. Therefore, I propose that I become the treasurer. I already have the support of one council memeber,'' she cast a glance at Arbore. ''And I hope I have the support of the other two.'' She sat down and looked expectedly at the two men.

''We do need a treasurer, and you have had experience, so you have my vote,'' said Savlian.

''Well, I don't know. You have had a quite a few slip ups, and we can't afford any at this time,'' said Irlav.

''I asure you, I am only careless with my money. I don't take risks with other peoples,'' she said.

''Hmmm, well, I suppose we could give you a go. Besides, we've never had a treasurer, it would be good to see how this plays out,'' he said.

''Good. I will not let you down. What business is there to discuss?'' Said Sigrid.

''Rations are reduced to half. We simply don't have enough food. People are starting to starve, and it may already be too late,'' said Irlav.

''Well, what can we do about it?'' Asked Arbore.

''We need to start buying food; it's the only way. We can't rely on foraging or hunting any longer. We need to suppliment what we can get ourselves with what we can get off of others. Irlav, how much gold do we have?'' Said Sigrid.

''One thousand-two hundred-and eleven Septims,'' he said

''That will only last us a week, if everyone is to get one meal a day. There must be something else,'' hhe said.

''Pillaging,'' said Savlian.

''We can't steal from honest, hard-working people. That would make us as bad as the Legion,'' said Sigrid.

''Legion Supply Wagon's!'' Shouted Irlav. ''We could ambush wagons heading towards Legion outposts. It would feed us, and would serve a blow to our enemies.''

''That's all well and good, but those wagons are heavily guarded. We wouldn't stand a chance,'' said Arbore.

''Not in a fair fight, but we won't be playing fair. We will have the element of suprise, and we can use the environment to our advantage, as well,'' he said.

''Where, exactly, would this happen?'' Asked Sigrid.

''I don't know, yet, but I will think of somewhere.''

''Very good. Now, weapon supplies have-'' Savlian was cut off by the sound of the attack horn. It blared throughout the camp, and then the screaming started. Suddenly, Ferana ran in to the tent. She stood there, panting, for a few moments, before she could utter two words.

''Skingrad soldiers.''

The five of them rushed out of the tent to see a scene of utter chaos. Soldiers, clad in red, swarmed around the camp, hacking and burning the tents. A man with long, blonde hair sat on a bay horse, pointing his sword in different directions, to which a small group of soldiers would rush to. People ran screaming towards the group, trying to get away from the attackers. A few small pockets of fighters were dotted around the camp, fighting off two guards to everyone of them. Oleta stood to the right of them with several dead or unconcious soldiers at her feet. Most of them sported some very impressive shock marks. Other than her restoration, Oleta was famous for her shock spells. On the other side of the camp stood Golven, Malsa and Dovor fighting off a dozen guards. Sigrid and Arbore ran over to help them, while Savlian, Irlav and Ferana went to help Oleta.

''What the hell is happening?'' Asked Arbore.

''I don't know. One moment it was quiet and peaceful. The next moment, soldiers were surrounding us and destroying the tents!'' Said Malsa, while blasting a soldier with a fireball.

''If you only surrendered, we wouldn't have to kill you!'' Shouted one of the guards.

''Why should we surrender to thieves and murderers like you?'' Said Golven.

''Because it would've stopped me doing this.'' The guard lunged at Golven, but then turned and sliced his sword across Malsa's throat. Sigrid, Arbore, Dovor and Golven stood and stared at Malsa for several moments. She stood with blood gushing from her neck, and, slowly, so very slowly, she collapsed onto the now bloodsoaked floor. The ten or so guards that were left jeered and snarled at the group, shaking their swords at Malsa's body. Golven collapsed onto his knees next to his sister, letting his emotions flood out onto her still warm skin. Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked directly at the soldiers. Arbore didn't like the look in Golven's eyes, he didn't like it one bit. Golven stood up, slowly, and pointed at Malsa's body. Malsa floated in the air for several moments, before she began spinnng, slowly at first, but then it became wilder and wilder. Something white and sharp flew from Malsa's body and embedded itslef into one of the soldiers. He looked down at the object, and realised, just before he died, that it was a bone.

''Necromancy,'' whispered Sigrid.

Soon, several parts of Malsa flew at the soldiers, and at Sigrid, Dovor and Abore. Sigrid erected a shield wall to stop them getting hit by any pieces of Malsa that may go astray. Pieces of skin would fly off and wrap around soldiers faces, slowly suffocating them. Blood and organs would fly off and lodge themselves in soldiers eyes on mouth, and blind or slowly suffocate them. More bone shards flew off and lodged themselves in soldiers or Sigrid's shield wall.

Soon, the blur of red that was Malsa slowed down, and all that was left was a small pool of blood, and a few tattered rags on the dusty floor. All the soldiers lay dead or dying, so Sigrid lowered the shield wall. Dovor ran up to Golven and punched him straight in the nose.

''What the hell is wrong with you, necromancer filth?'' He screamed at Golven, who was kneeling on the floor in tears. ''Well, is it because the taint of worms runs through your blood, or is it because you're simply dark and twisted? I will not let this stand. The Mages Guild will hear about this, and you, as well as anyone protecting you, will be dealt with.'' Before turning away from his brotherinlaw, Dovor kicked a mixture of blood and dust in Golven's face.

Moments passed, Dovor strode between the fires and fights, paying no attention to them, and getting none in return. His dark robes billowed behind him, but no amount of darkness could match his eyes. Such evil Arbore had never seen, as Dovor turned to give the camp one last look.

Golven lay on the floor with blood and tears streaming down his face. Arbore cast a quick healing spell, and Golven's broken nose, from where Dovor punched him, snapped back into place. Golven didn't even cry out, even though the pain would've been imense. The fighting was still continuing around the camp. Sigrid went to help the Khajiit couple fend off several guards, but Arbore never left Golven, and Oves never left Arbore.

Minutes, perhaps hours passed before the fighting had almost finished. The Skingrad Soldiers had clustered together, and so had the Kvatchians. Savlian and the Captain of the Skingrad Guard stood between the two armies, exchanging blows. Savlian raised his sword to strike the Captain, but he raised his shield to block the blow. Savlian staggered backwards, leaving himself open for a counter attack, which did come. The Captain swung his sword low, but suddenly veered high. Savlian managed to block the blow, but only just. He was sent tumbling to the ground, a mixture of dirt and sweat clung to his face. The Captain lifted his sword and brought it down on Savlian. A flash of white filled the air, and the Captain's sword went flying and stuck itself into a nearby tree.

''This is sacred ground, mortal. You dare slaughter my allies here?'' Meridia towered above the Captain who was now staring straight into the eyes of Meridia.

''I don't know who you are, but you have no authority over me.''

''Is that so?'' With a flick of her wrist Meridia reduced the Captain to a pile of fine ash at her feet. ''Does anyone else want a go?''

The Skingrad soldier's, as one, dropped their weapons and ran. The Kvatchian's cheered and roared as the Imperial's turned tails and fled.


End file.
